Perfect
by gijane197702
Summary: Summary: Another take on Remus and Tonks’ first kiss Remus tries to guess Tonks’ natural hair colour. Set night of OOTP 1st September.


Perfect

Author: Gijane

Rated: PG13 (language/sexual situations)

Summary: Another take on Remus and Tonks' first kiss; Remus tries to guess Tonks' natural hair colour. Setting: Night of OOTP 1st September.

Author's Notes: For some reason an early draft was posted. All fixed! This hovers on the T/M line.

Remus Lupin felt good; the kind of good experienced when one has had a tad too much to drink but is not quite drunk yet. He felt warm and fuzzy while sitting in his armchair in front of the drawing room fireplace at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, watching Nymphadora Tonks and Sirius Black having a Firewhisky drinking competition.

He wasn't quite sure who would win. Sirius had more experience, but Tonks had been taught to drink by Alastor Moody. "He said it was part of Auror Training," she had told them weeks before.

Remus smirked as Sirius finished his shot and was barely able to turn his glass over. "Eleven," he slurred.

It seemed that getting out of Number Twelve had been quite beneficial for Sirius: he had gone against Dumbledore's wishes, and against Remus' better judgment, and had helped to escort Harry, Hermione, and the Weasley children to Platform 9 ¾. This had put him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

Remus smirked once again at the delighted look on Tonks' face as she turned her glass over and announced, "Twelve" in a clearly sober voice.

Sirius groaned. "Bloody hell, girl, you sure can drink." He raised another shot to his lips, and then put it down. "I can't. If I do, you and poor Lightweight there…" he paused, then grinned, as Remus scowled at him, "will be dragging my unconscious arse up to my room."

"Are you conceding defeat?" Tonks asked with a smile.

"Aye, I concede defeat to you, Auror Tonks."

Both Sirius and Remus began to laugh as Tonks stood up, arms raised, and crowed, "I win! I win!"

"Rub in it, why don't you?" Sirius snorted as he plopped himself down in the other armchair across from Remus, holding his head in his hands. "Oi, quit jumping. I can't take that bobbing shock of green you call your hair."

Remus chuckled as Tonks stuck her tongue out at her cousin. "What is your natural colour?" he asked. "I've seen pink and purple spikes, neon green bob," he motioned to her current hairstyle, "shoulder length blue, pixie cut curly blonde, waist length Weasley red, and the old lady grey from this morning."

"I'll never tell," Tonks giggled as she sat down on the hearthrug between the two armchairs. "Why you asking?"

Remus intercepted a raised eyebrow from Sirius and groaned to himself. His friend knew him as well as he knew himself. There was a reason he remembered all of Tonks' shades of hair colour: he had a major crush on her (if one could have a crush at thirty-six). He shook his head very slightly at Sirius, who frowned back at him. "Just wondering," he told her.

"Funny. Most men want me to morph to their liking. You want to see me natural. Funny, that…" Tonks trailed off, and then smiled brilliantly up at him, causing his stomach to drop.

Remus glared at Sirius as he chuckled softly. "Well, most men are stupid. Is your hair black like Sirius' and your mum's?" he guessed.

"Nope," she smirked at him, and then leaned back against his legs. He closed his eyes briefly to avoid the grin he knew his friend was wearing.

"Brown?"

"Only when I'm depressed," she replied.

"When's the last time you were depressed?" Sirius asked.

"I've only been brown a few times: when you were sent off to that hell hole, when Gran, my Dad's mum, died, and er… when Mum was really sad after the time Mrs Malfoy visited-"

"When the hell did Narcissa visit?" Sirius demanded.

"Why do you call her Mrs Malfoy and not Aunt?" Remus asked at the same time.

"'Cause she's no relation of mine," Tonks told Remus, who was confused, but nodded. "She came right before I started school to tell Mum that their mother had died and Mum had been left nothing since she had been disowned for 'marrying a Mudblood and spawning a half blood mutant,'" Tonks quoted to Sirius.

"What a bitch," Sirius muttered, leaning his head back.

"I agree," Remus said. "Er, not black and not brown. Let me think…red?"

"Nope," Tonks grinned.

Remus opened his mouth to speak, but a loud screech from upstairs cut him off. "That's Buckbeak," he unnecessarily told Sirius.

"I know...he must be hungry or something. Merlin, I hope I can feed him competently whilst pissed."

"Need some help?" Remus sighed at the grin on Sirius' face.

"Nope, I've got it. You stay here and entertain Tonks. I'll be back." He stood up, surprisingly agile for a drunken man, and made his way out of the drawing room. A few moments later, there was another screech and he could be heard going upstairs, while hollering, "Hold on, Beaky, I'm coming!"

Tonks giggled. "He's so funny."

"He's a barrel of laughs," Remus muttered, knowing Sirius had left him and Tonks alone on purpose.

"So," she said, turning around and resting her chin on the lower of his crossed knees. He could feel himself becoming aroused and was praying that his robes could cover it. The slightest gesture (a smile, a whiff of her shampoo, a touch) could excite him. "You've guessed black, brown, and red. Any more guesses? Hey, you okay?"

"I'm fine," he responded in a voice that sounded high-pitched to him, but must have been fine for she continued chatting,

"So…are you guessing? Or do you give up?"

"The only colour left is blonde, but I think you wouldn't tell me even if I did guess properly."

Tonks grinned and slapped his knee in amusement. "How well you know me!"

"See," he breathed, praying she didn't notice his blatant erection. "Why should I continue?"

"'Cause it's fun! I can morph all those colours for you and you pick your favourite."

"No, thank you. I'd rather have you natural…or pink spikes. I'm quite fond of them." Remus mentally cursed himself. The Firewhisky was allowing him to say all sorts of things he never would dare say sober.

Tonks' green eyes widened. "What did you say?" she whispered.

"Ah…er…well…" Remus began to stutter as she looked him up and down, as if reappraising him. "I'm sorry, that was totally out of line."

"No, no, it's quite all right, actually," she told him. "Do you know what a Metamorphmagus is?"

"You can change you appearance at will, without help from potions or charms," he quoted her.

"Good answer, Professor," she said. "That's the textbook definition of a Metamorphmagus. Now, what am I to men?"

Remus cocked his head at her, thinking; he had no idea. Then, all of a sudden, it hit him. "You're every man's dream: you can be what they want."

"Precisely," Tonks told him. "I don't want to be a man's fantasy…"

"You want to be yourself," Remus finished for her.

"Exactly."

"I see." Was he imaging it or was she actually creeping closer? Remus shifted, crossing his legs tighter, hoping to cover up his arousal. He groaned as she laid her head on his upper crossed knee.

"Remus," she asked, "you all right?"

"I'm fine," he managed to choke out. "It's rather warm in here."

"It's nice. Are you sweating? You should take off your robes! I bet you have a jumper and trousers on underneath. No wonder why you're so hot!"

"No!" Remus all but bellowed as she leaned in and her hands strayed towards his robes' clasp. She pulled away, as if burned, her hands landing in his lap.

Their eyes met and their gazes locked. He read her emotions in her eyes: surprise at his yell, shock at her hands landing on his erection, thoughtfulness at what she discovered and then finally, to his shock, _desire_.

His gaze was draw away from her eyes as Tonks licked her lips. Remus groaned, "Nymphadora."

"Yes?" she asked.

"Your hands. Well… they're still… you know…"

"In your lap, on your…"

"Yes, precisely," he said in a clipped tone, shifting again. "If you don't mind..."

"I don't," Tonks said, her hands remaining in his lap.

"Nymphadora, please…you were never supposed to find out!"

"Find out what?" She stroked his arousal through his trousers, asking, "That you fancied me?"

"Nymph…a…Oh, God, please don't," he moaned as he gave into the pleasure.

"Nymphadora, that's my name. Don't you like when I do this?" she asked, stroking him again. Tonks was rewarded as his erection strained into her hand. "I see you do."

"Please," Remus whispered. "We've both had too much to drink. I don't want you to be repulsed by what you're doing in the morning."

Tonks' hands froze. Looking up at him, he watched the desire flee from her eyes. It was replaced with confusion. "Why would I be repulsed by this?"

"Please." He removed her hands, uncrossed his legs, and then stood. "I'm sorry; you were never supposed to find out."

He made for the drawing room door but she stopped him. "Remus, wait, please. I don't understand. Why wouldn't you tell me you fancied me and why would I be repulsed?"

Remus paused at the door, his arousal and buzz completely gone at this point. He turned around to look at her. "Are you serious? You know what I am!" At her blank look, he sighed, "A werewolf, Nymphadora."

"I know that!" she said, still bewildered. "Why would I be repulsed? To me, you're Remus."

"I'm a dangerous beast that would tear you apart if we were in the same room and I wasn't on Wolfsbane!"

He watched as comprehension dawned in her eyes. "Remus?"

"What?" he asked, not able to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He turned around to open the door and leave the room, flinching when she laid a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "Please…don't touch me."

"Look at me," Tonks whispered. Not wanting to, but unable to help himself, he turned back around.

His eyes widened as he took in her new appearance. Gone was the neon green bobbed hair and matching eyes. They were replaced with waist length honey blonde curls and chocolate brown eyes. Sweeping his eyes down her figure, he noted that she was slightly heavier and her breasts were much larger. "Is this you?" he asked, brushing away a curl that was in her eyes.

"Yes, this is me, totally unmorphed. What do you think?" she asked quietly.

"You're perfect," Remus whispered. He was delighted when she blushed.

"You think I'm perfect this way, and I think you're perfect the way you are; werewolf and all." She stroked his cheek.

Remus looked down at her and stared directly into her eyes, transfixed. It was taking all his energy to attempt to wrap his mind around the fact that she wanted him too. After all these months of wanting, yearning, dreaming… Yet here she was, smiling back at him, returning his steadfast gaze.

He could read in her eyes that she was telling the truth. Remus felt naked before her gaze but he realized with a jolt that it did not make him feel uncomfortable, as it undoubtedly would have felt with any other person. Her expression, the slight pout of her lips, beckoned him to lean his face toward hers. Leaning down, he brushed his lips over hers. When she leaned up into him, he repeated the action.

"Tease," Tonks whispered as his lips hovered over hers for a third time. "Kiss me-"

Remus cut her off with a searing kiss. She gasped, and then eagerly kissed him back. He leaned back against the door for support, taking her with him. Their bodies flush, she wiggled up against his re-established erection.

Finally having to break the kiss to breathe, he groaned into her ear, "Oh, Dora, sweetheart…"

"Kiss me again," she commanded. He complied. As their second kiss ended, she whispered, "That was nice."

"Mmmmm, yeah." Remus twirled a curl around his finger. "I like the curls as almost as much as the pink spikes."

"Which do you prefer?" Tonks asked.

Remembering her earlier words, he said, "You don't have to worry about being just a fantasy to me."

"Do you like the pink?"

"It suits your personality perfectly. But, I have to admit," he said, running his hands through her hair, "honey blonde curls are my favourite."

"Liar," Tonks grinned. She laughed as he blushed. "You love the pink spikes." She laughed harder as he began to sputter. "I know I'll never be a fantasy with you."

"No, you won't," Remus told her. "Ever."

"Never? 'Cause my being a Metamorphmagus means we can do some seriously interesting things…" Her 'in bed' remained unsaid, but he knew what she meant.

"What kind of things?" he asked, backing her up. Sitting back down in his armchair, he pulled her into his lap. "Explain them to me; I have a very active imagination."

FINIS


End file.
